


Shadows

by seatbeltdrivein



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Community: fanfic_bakeoff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-07
Updated: 2011-03-07
Packaged: 2017-10-16 04:04:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/168223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seatbeltdrivein/pseuds/seatbeltdrivein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Selim Bradley doesn't like the dark. Post-manga.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shadows

The shadows never looked quite right to him, nor did the mirrors. Something about them was unsettling. He'd never been able to bring himself to look at his reflection in the dark.

His mother called it a childhood fear, confident that it would disappear with age. Selim stood out of range of the mirror, sixteen years old, and thought, _when's childhood supposed to end, anyway?_

"Selim? You're still in there?" His mother was at the door. Selim pulled his toothbrush from his mouth, leaning unsteadily to spit a mouthful of foam into the sink, careful to keep his eyes averted.

"I'll be out in a minute," he said. "Leave me alone."

His mother sighed, long-suffering and sad. Selim barely moved, barely breathed, until her footsteps disappeared down the hall, followed shortly by the reluctant creak of her door. Certain she was gone, he opened the door.

She'd left the hallway light on, for once. He was always on her about turning it off, and she always forgot to leave it on. Nice to see she could listen occasionally. He walked slow, watching the walls in his peripheral, taking notice of the way his shadow spun, distorted, twitching out of sync with his body as though it had a mind of its own. He'd watched the old man Grumman and his mother. _Their_ shadows never moved, always parroting them like puppets on strings.

It was just another thing he couldn't understand—not that anyone bothered explaining.

Calling out a _night!_ to his mother as he closed his door, pausing for his mother's returning _sleep well!_ , Selim crawled into bed and tugged the string on his lamp to add some light to the room.

Selim let the movement of his shadow on the ceiling lull him to sleep.


End file.
